


Like a Phoenyx

by flargablarga



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, i haven't written a new story in a while, so let's try this again, there's a lot of confusion at the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7736626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flargablarga/pseuds/flargablarga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was never meant to be there when the bombs fell. The airstrike that struck down Headquarters took many lives with it. Those that survived carry the guilt of those lost souls, but that was the burden they bear. After all, they were the ones who caused it. </p><p>The Phoenyx must burn to emerge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She remembered the airstrike.

The sound of it. The light from it. The pain from it.

The building around her had been reduced to a little more than rubble and smoke. The people she had been conversing with were either no longer resembling a person, or missing altogether. The harness on her back felt like it was crushing her under it’s relatively moderate weight. It wasn’t really heavy-she’d designed it to be able to be used in battle.

She remembered being inspected. People told her she was a useless little child. She remembered that for a standstill moment in time she for sure believed that this was her last memory.

_In some ways it was._

* * *

 

She sat up with a start.

There were heavy footsteps to her left, “Ma’am? Are you alright?”

She huffed heavily, almost trying to catch her breath. Her eyes moved to look in the direction of her companion, whether or not any other part of her body moved with them.

“Another nightmare?”

She just nodded. Her hands reached up and rubbed her face; one cold, one clammy with sweat. The lights in the room slowly turned on one by one. The nightmares had grown more frequent in the last week, and they were starting to get annoying as they were making her super exhausted during the day.

She slid her legs out of the bed, throwing the sheets to the side and earning a sad noise from Jack. Jack had been with her in this shop for a few years now. He gave her a hand with the lifting and some of the payment collection.

“Would you like some water?” Jack asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” She pressed on the two switches on the backs of her calves. “Get a disguise ready for you, I’m heading out to pick up more parts.”

“It’s 0400.”

“I know. The gang shouldn’t be up and about right now.”

She earned a nod before Jack left. Jack was a helpful little thing albeit sometimes more worried than anyone else she’d ever met. He was just like a dad and it was almost funny. Almost until he started nagging her about not eating healthy or not working out as much as she should. His intents were good, just annoying.

Her hands moved about in an attempt to look reasonable before she stepped outside. Free her hair of knots, throw on some sort of shirt, then ta-da: reasonable. Thankfully she didn’t need to wear any shoes or anything of the such. Her limbs looked shoe-like enough that they didn’t get much attention for just walking down the street. Thankfully they didn’t. Wearing clothing over them would make them overheat this time of year.

She went upstairs. Jack was standing in the front desk area wearing little more than a poncho atop his usual clothing.

“How’s this?” He asked quietly. He made the fabric billow out as he turned around for her to look him over.

“Brilliant disguise.” She grabbed a hat and plopped it on his head, “Ready?”

He nodded, “If you are.”

The two left quietly. Their silence only matched the stillness around the town. It was such a lovely time to wander about if one only wanted to be alone with their thoughts.

Until you heard the unmistakable sound of someone groaning in pain.

She paused mid stride and turned to the sound. She earned a confused noise from her companion. It wasn't hard to find the source considering the noise itself. She cautiously walked to the crumpled body of a man on the ground. Her eyes momentarily fell over to the weapon to his side.

“Hey, I’m gonna move your arm, don’t hit me.”

The man on the ground instinctively tried to back away, earning himself the just reward of pain all over. She glanced around her, quietly lifting his arm to look over his wounds. If it was just the obvious shrapnel in his side the man probably wouldn’t still be in that much pain. He would have taken care of it by now.

“Hey, calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you or turn you into law enforcement.”  She sighed a bit before turning to Jack, “Let’s get him to the shop. I’ll call for a doctor when we get back.”

Jack nodded and knelt beside her, “I’m going to lift you, sir.”

Once the man was picked up and covered a bit with the poncho Jack was wearing, she quickly skirted around the corner. The streets were still empty and the closest watch point wouldn’t be occupied for a few minutes.

“C’mon, Jack, let’s hurry.” She leaned down and grabbed the rifle before skittering down the street with her companion.

Jack stayed at her heels as she took the back alleys back to the shop. The walk seemed a million times longer with the added weight that if they were caught helping this man they could potentially be arrested.

She slammed the door and locked it once Jack was safely inside. “Take him to the guest room.”

“Yes, Ma’am. ”

She shut all the windows tight and made sure all the doors were closed. She grabbed the red box and hoped that the right tools and medicines were inside. Or at the very least she hoped they were close enough.

Jack was laying the man down, already on disrobing duty. The man's clothes were torn and bloody, they stunk something awful, and it looked like he never wore anything else. Well, if he was on the run or some sort of vigilante it would make sense.

“I am going to take your shirt off.” Jack said quietly.

The man just groaned, no longer seeming to care about what was happening so long as they weren't trying to kill him or something.

“Leave his mask on.” She told Jack.

He nodded but kept at it.

She moved in with the cloth to wipe away blood as soon as the shirt was out of the way. The shrapnel was abundant,  but thankfully not very deep. She picked out as much as she could before spraying a mild disinfectant on the wounds and covering it with bandages.  

“Jack, please go get me the phone. I'll call the doctor.” She asked.

Jack nodded but stopped in the doorway. His gaze stayed on the man's jacket, “What does the ‘76’ mean?”

She looked over, “Hm?”

“He wears a jacket and it says ‘76’ on it.” Jack motioned to it.

She looked back at the man in the bed.”Well…”

She pulled a blanket over him. His breathing was labored to an almost alarming rate. It was probably from the mask taking damage. She'd be sure to take a look at it soon.

But first thing first: He needed a doctor.

“It just means he's a little far from home.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

_ He remembered a force hitting him hard, knocking him straight to the ground. He remembered the shock wave and the field of blue in his face.  _

_ But Most of all he remembered seeing a bloody set of injuries on a small frame. He remembered the sadness he felt; the anger that rose in his gut before the dust settled. He remembered the sense of regret that inevitably surrounded him as he found out the number of lives he'd caused to vanish.  _

_ It was all his fault. _

_ Those people would never wake up, never feel again. _

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Gunfire.

He woke up to the familiar sound of gunfire. It seemed lately that he awoke to nothing more than the aggressive sound. While usually it was no less than 20 feet from him, this gunfire was from seemingly rooms away from him.

Rooms?

He tried to force his body to sit up but earned only pain radiating from his side instead. A small growl escaped his lips. The pain from his side burned a quick desire into him to stay as still as possible. He supposed that’s what he should get from being blown up so recently without treating it.

“Stay the hell out of my shop!”

“You don’t tell me what to do, nena !”

Oh, he recognized that second voice. The grating noise and squeaky breaths pointed to one of the gang members that were running around last night. But the first speaker was not someone whose voice he recognized.

“We run these streets! You’re the one at  _ our _ mercy!”

“You run the streets? I’m pretty sure those are  _ my _ weapons yer toting around.”

“That don’t matter!”There was a chuckle, “We stole these fair and square!”

He heard the ever knowing sound of a pulse rifle being reloaded and powered up. “ Want to try your luck? Eh, ¿desea probar su suerte?”

The sound of some loud clattering and banging was followed by a heavy door being shut. Heavy, metalic  footsteps stomped down a flight of stairs to his right before coming to a stop outside the room he still laid in. 

“Jack! Please get our guest some water and see if he's awake!” The voice shouted from just outside the door.

He groaned quietly as he tried to sit up. The room through his visor barely made sense to him, just vague shapes and blobs. Perhaps it was a combination of a broken visor and his unfortunate inability to make out much without his facewear.

“Yes, Ma’am! ” 

It wasn’t much longer afterwards that the door to the room opened. There was a soft set of footsteps wandering around the room until something was set down on the table next to his bed. 

“Sir… I am going to touch your shoulder,” A hand gently pressed on his shoulder, making sure he was still. 

It wasn’t the first time that someone had told him that they would be making contact with him. Several doctors and medics had done the same many times beforehand. It was something they did if they thought he was in shock. It was almost… comforting that someone had half a brain to do such a thing considering the person he was now.

“You were injured so we brought you here.” 

He was leaned back into a newly formed mound of pillows, letting him sit up.

“Is there anyone you would like us to contact for you?”

He only gave a grunt in reply. There was not a single person on this living earth that would want to hear from him. Only one of his old team members even knew he was alive, and everyone else would be more than willing to turn him in for the bounty on his head.

“I see.” A metal hand touched his own gloveless hand. It lifted his hand to a cup, “Here, some water. Try and drink it. Ms. Anderson has called the doctor and he’ll be here as soon as possible.”

He heard the person move about the room a little bit before leaving altogether. He held the cup in his hand as his mind wandered. The pain in his side mattered very little compared to the question of ‘why’? 

Why were they helping him?

He was a wanted man in several countries. He’d stolen Overwatch tech and there was a massive bounty looming over his head. There wasn’t a threatening feeling in the air, however. It was little more than the feeling of a calming safe house.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock to the door. The same person from earlier walked in, followed by two others. One owned the metalic footsteps, and the other was holding some sort of bag.

“Sir, the doctor is here. He's going to be fixing you up. Please stay calm.” The same person announced.

The blanket was slowly peeled from his body, earning a wicked shiver down his back. He knew he'd lost a bit of blood but the amount must have ended up different in the time he'd gone unconscious. He shouldn't feel so cold.

He soon felt hands on his side, digging in with tweezers and a small scalpel. “So, what's your name, friend?” This must be the doctor.

“That doesn’t matter. I'm not paying you to find out his life story.” That was a young woman's voice.

“No… but you  _ are _ paying me to forget I ever saw him here, right?” 

“You are here because I burned myself again with the soldering gun.”

“Yes, Ma’am,  Ms. Morrison. Yknow,  you should-”

“Don't call me that.”

“...ma'am?”

“My last name. You don't get to call me that.”

“Ah, _ lo siento _ .” He went back to cleaning out the wound. “Well, your friend is going to be fine. Just some rest and I'll leave some pain pills for him. He's dehydrated and probably wouldn't hurt to stuff him full of food.”

“I've got your money upstairs.” 

Someone covered him back up, “Please rest, sir.” 

He groaned softly. All the attention was the last thing he wanted. 

“Ms. Anderson is going to run to the store to get something to make. What would you like?”

He didn't answer as he tried his best to relax in the bed. It was almost too comfortable with all the pillows and sheets. He'd been sleeping in cheap motels or on the streets when he had the chance. 

“My name is Jack, just call for me if you need anything at all.” Shortly after, everyone aside him had left the room. 

Jack. That wasn't a name he had heard in years. Five years at least. Not that he was ‘Jack’ anymore. That was a name he'd left behind in the rubble and smoke. Left behind on a plaque that claimed his death.

He laid back into the mass of pillows--there were still too many-- and tried his best to relax. The people here weren't trying to threaten him. They paid off people to not see him. Perhaps it would be in his best option to go along with this ruse, to take a moment to sit back and watch. 

For now.

 

* * *

 

 

He woke up to a warm hand on his face. His face, not mask. The other hand on the back of his head was warm, but metalic, and was holding where the backside of the headgear would be.

The entirety of his mask was missing from his face, visor included. He was rather surprised he was still able to breathe without it. Lately, even a minute without it on would render him a little more useful than a fork with no prongs. 

“Can you still hear me?” The voice was soft and right next to him. After a pause, they must have seen some sort of a reaction as he then heard, “I have an oxygen mask on you. I’m going to fix your mask and visor. You’re using Overwatch tech so it shouldn’t take long.”

Shouldn’t take long? 

They must have seen his confusion because they laughed at him, “I used to work for Overwatch. I designed some stuff for them. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

Good hands? He was in ‘good hands’? Good hands meant that he trusted them with his life. Hell, his headgear  _ was _ his life right now. The level of trust he had in the hands that now were messing with his lifeline was only circumstantial. He  _ had _ to trust them. He didn't have the slightest choice to trust them unless he felt like leaving without any of his gear.

“....You don't take care of anything except your pulse rifle, and that's only to a degree. It's not been taken apart and cleaned in ages.” She told him. “Eventually, that's going to be your downfall.”

He groaned.

“Next time I won't fix your gear for free.” She continued.

Next time? He didn't plan on there being a next time. He was only in the area because he was looking for someone. Someone and something, and if he found either one the other didn't matter.

“That  being said, as long as I don't have another guest, you are welcomed to stay here anytime.”

He soon felt hands on his face again, this time without warning. He fought an overwhelming urge to push them away or growl. They carefully removed themselves before being replaced with a warm, wet washcloth. 

“I refuse to put the gear back on a dirty face.” He was told. “That's a disgrace to whoever made these.” 

He wanted to sit up and push her hands away. He wanted to growl and tell her to leave him alone. He wanted to leave this bed and take his stuff with him and never return. He wanted to do a lot of things he never would. The washcloth, the bed, the kind words, the harsher kind words. It was making him feel the closest to human--to normality-- than he had in years.

“So,” She laid the cloth on his forehead as her hands left his face, “Do you have a name or should we keep calling you 76?”

Soldier 76 stayed quiet.

She just went quiet too. He allowed his eyes to close as the sounds of machinery from down below became loud in the silence. 

He nearly jumped at the sudden shout of, “Jack! Please get me a Li‑ion polymer battery!” 

He growled softly at the sudden noise, only to receive a gentle hand on his cheek. 76 looked to the blob that was the girl. She wasn't smiling or anything sappy like that. He knew he shouldn't be on such an edge but not having any of his gear left him almost helpless and he hated the feeling.

“After we get the battery switched out, I'll put it all back on you.” She told him.

The hand on his face moved as bits of his headgear was strapped back into place. 

“But you aren't leaving my shop without a shower. We're washing your clothes and I'll have Jack fix the bullet holes in your jacket.”

He wanted to ask her why. Why was she so caring? Why was she giving him things? Fixing things for free? Paying for medical bills? What good business person did this for free? What kind of person had he stumbled upon did this sort of thing?

“Here you are, ma'am.” Jack said as he entered the room. “I am going to finish up the gift basket for Alejandra.” He left almost as quickly.

She messed around with something before 76 heard the telling sign of the mask and visor being powered up.

“I’m going to take the oxygen mask off of you. Hold your breath so you don’t choke. On three take a deep breath.”

He felt the hand on the mask.

“One…”

76 held onto the sheets a little tighter than he should have. The removal of the mask meant he wouldn’t be able to breathe well. It would make him remember the last time he felt so closed off-trapped. 

“Two…”

Her other hand fussed with something next to the bed. All he could make out was fuzzy blobs but he was sure it was his mask.

“Three, deep breath.” 

He was barely allowed time to take the biggest rush of air that his lungs would allow before the oxygen mask was lifted away.  Almost immediately,  he felt the mask click into place. It wasn't activated however and was being fussed with.

“Few more seconds…” She mumbled. 

As soon as the mask was powered back up and the mask filled with air, he let out his breath and allowed it to do it's magic. It was designed to help a soldier in combat: forcing them to breathe even in conditions where their lungs weren't doing what they were told. It was intended to only be used during battle,  but lately 76 had found himself solely relying on it to breathe altogether. 

The visor was put back in place and powered up once again. Light flooded his vision completely before it settled and the sight before him almost confused him.

He wasn't really sure what he was expecting to find, but a well lit room with a full room of furniture was not it. There was a desk, a bookshelf, a large dresser, and a chair that next to his bed right then. His coat was hanging up on a hook by the door, along with his boots and freshly folded and cleaned clothes. 

The girl next to him wheeled the chair back to its place by the desk, putting her tools away. She didn't stop for even a second to look at him, or even simply acknowledge that he was able to see her now. 

“Can you talk now?” She asked quietly.

He made a soft noise before answering quietly, “Yes.” His throat ached something fierce. Partly from not using it, partly from dehydration.

“Oh, good. I won't be talking to a brick wall anymore.” She said flatly.

He didn't offer an apology. The less he spoke with her the less she knew. The less she knew the less likely she'd be targeted or arrested because of him.

She wheeled back over to him,  a device in her hands. “I'm gonna run a diagnostic on your visor to make sure it's running the right parameters for your vision. Hold still for me.”

He nodded before falling completely motionless as she held the handheld device to his mask. She held it over the visor for several minutes before pulling it away and wheeling back to the desk. 

“The bathroom is the first door on the right when you leave the room. There's towels and washrags in the cabinet. All other toiletries are under the sink.” She told him, “The hot water runs the longest after midnight.” She helped him sit back up. “There’s a pitcher of water on the nightstand and a cup, try and drink some of it. Pain pills are there too if you think you need them.”

76 watched her press something on the back of her legs before standing up and stretching. Well, at least he knew who the metalic footsteps belonged to: the girl with the mechanical legs. 

“If you need anything, call for Jack, he’ll hear you before I do.” She gathered her things and headed towards the door. “Sleep well, old man.”

He huffed as he tried to get his mouth to form the words he wanted them too. “W.. “

She turned to look at him, “Hm?”

“Why? ” 

“‘Why’? Why what? Why help you?”

He nodded. What gain was she getting from this? He was using her supplies, her time, her bed, her money. Nothing was getting gained from the situation. Nothing was worth it to keep him here and keep him hidden.

“Because once upon a time I didn't have anyone to go to. I was alone and couldn't get anyone to help me. Jus’ don't want someone else to have to feel like that.” 

“Ma'am,  you have a client!” Jack yelled up the stairs.

“What kind?”

“Prothstetic!”

“I'll be right down!”

She flicked off the lights, sending the room into darkness except for the nightlight under the desk. She lingered in the doorway for a second longer before she slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Soldier 76 groaned as he sat up. 

It wasn't his side that hurt--that wound had all but healed over by now. His genetic alterations thanks to the super soldier program had upped his natural healing speed, and whatever almighty power that was watching over him knows that he had been super thankful for it.

It was his neck from sleeping in such an odd angle that was in pain. The three pillows on the bed were obnoxiously too many, but two alone wasn't enough support for him… but beggars can't be choosers.

He shifted to sit on the end of the bed. He ran one of his hands through his hair, feeling the built up grime, and grimaced. He was a mess and he had no one to blame but himself. He'd forsaken a night's stay at a cheap motels in favor of chasing down his objective. It would have still been there in the morning. If only he could go back and tell his past self to take a break he wouldn't have been in this situation: hiding out in a guest bedroom of someone he still wasn't sure of.

Upstairs he could hear people moving. Of course it was only the sounds of the two people that he knew worked there. Jack and the girl. She hadn't told him her name, perhaps for the same reason he didn't tell anyone his.

Besides, having two ‘Jack’s’ in the same place would get confusing.

76 stood and slowly walked around the room. It was full yet barren. There weren't any family pictures or any pictures at all for that matter. A quick inspection of the dresser showed that it had copies of the same pair of shirt and jeans in plenty of varying sizes. Apparently washing people's clothes for them was normal. The bookshelf had nothing but manuals for robotics, weapons, prosthesis, or other various Omnic related products. 

What kind of a kid was so interested in engineering lately?

Lately they only seemed interested in movie production or news casting. The last time he'd seen someone so interested in things of that nature was 5 years ago before the airstrike struck the Swiss HQ building. She was such a happy one.

“It is good to see you awake.”

The door opened and 76 turned to look. From whatever he expected Jack to look like, being an Omnic wasn't it. He was an earlier modeled one, making him almost surprised that the robot was still up and running around. 

“Is something wrong,  sir? ” He asked quietly. 

It wasn't that he disliked Omnics, it was more of memories of the Crisis that they reminded him of. He'd spent ages on the frontlines fighting against them.

After another brief moment of silence, Jack nodded to himself and muttered a simple, “I see.”

76 only stared back at him, unmoving in his spot and waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

“Ms. Anderson is working on a client’s leg, but dinner is ready upstairs.” He said quietly. The Omnic shuffled out the door and up the stairs.

He hadn’t meant to give off the feeling of anger or hate towards Jack. After the Crisis, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness when one was around. It made him remember the things he did, relive the things he’d seen. 

But he turned to dig out a shirt to pull on before he left; thankfully, they had put him in shorts to cover his bottom half. 76 moved out of the room, finding the restroom almost immediately and using the facilities. He would shower later in the night--midnight,  right? -- to stay out of everyone's way. 

Outside of the restroom in the hall was another bedroom and a living room. Neither had much furniture either. The bedroom had less than the guest room with just a bed and dresser. The living room at least looked livable with a couch and a chair. The stairs to the first floor were behind the wall the couch was flush against. 

Before he even hit the last few steps, 76 could clearly make out the smell of oil, grease, and dirt. Yep. This was definitely a workshop. If the smell wasn't enough to steadfast his decision, the overflowing tool chests and prototypes on the walls would have.

The girl was sitting in middle of the room with a teenage boy. His leg, or what was left of it, was propped up on the table she was working on. From the looks of it,  the adapter for his leg had already been completed and inset on the stub. 

“Jack!! We need tickles, stat! He's losing his smile!!” She cried suddenly.

The boy looked around confused until he started giggling madly at the fingers tickling his sides. Jack was making happy trills and only stopping his tickle attack when the boy was having a hard time breathing from laughing too hard. 

“Ah, that's better. Thanks, Jack.” She leaned back from what she was doing.

“You're welcome.” Jack moved back to the kitchen, cleaning it up.

She whipped the blanket away from the boy's upper legs that was blocking him from seeing it, “Aaaaaaand with that…. Your super awesome magical leg is done!”

If 76 could ever describe pure happiness… this boy's face would be the only way too. The leg automatically reacted to the boy's movements. The design was simple and look like it could be stretched as he grew, making the design even more so brilliant.

“Well, let's get you up and walkin’.” She scooted her chair back, clicked the buttons on her legs, then stood up. “Hold my hands so you don’t fall.” She held out her hands.

The boy gladly did, quickly relearning to walk in almost no time. He was sent on his way with candy and a quick smile when he asked how should he pay for the leg.

She huffed and plopped back down in her chair, cleaning up the tools. “You just gonna keep standing there or you want us to bring your food downstairs?”

76 finished walking up the stairs. “You didn't make him pay for it?” 

“He was 10. Besides it was a simple design and didn't take much.” She frowned at him. “I don't make most people pay for false limbs. They need legs to walk, arms to hold… so why would I ruin that by making them owe me an arm or a leg?”

“That is a horrible way to run a business.” He went to the kitchen where Jack handed him a large plateful of food.

“Thank you for your concern, but I've got this.” She waved him off.

“Ma'am, your food is going to get cold, please come eat.” Jack set her plate on the table beside the small kitchen.

“In a few.” 

“Ma'am. ” 

“Hold on.”

“Ms. Anderson.”

“Just a-”

“Nyx, please.” Jack trilled sadly. 

She huffed and hit the buttons again to stand up before stomping over to the table and sitting there. “...fine.”

“ I made your favorite, or at least I think it is your favorite…” Jack set a glass of milk on the table, “Mac and cheese and Mr. Reyes had left some steak in the freezer so I cooked it…”

She dug in quickly, stuffing her face. She looked at 76 and motioned to one of the chairs, “Sit.”

He slowly did, a bit of soreness striking his side. He was given a glass of water as well as a glass of juice. Jack made sure to move away as quickly as possible, standing beside the girl.

“Just because you aren’t eating doesn’t mean you can’t sit with us, Jack.” She motioned to the chair across from 76.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He trilled happily before sitting and folding his hands on the table as he waited. “Did you read about the Omnic monks that they were talking about recently?”

“Mhmm.”

“I’d love to go meet them.”

She stuffed a forkful of steak in her mouth, “I know, we’re saving up to take you.” 

“Really?” 

“Jack, have I ever lied to you?”

“Only on Christmas.”

“Is it Christmas?”

“Well, no, it’s the middle of August.”

She raised her eyebrows and waited for the Omnic to realize. Even 76 had to hold in a chuckle when Jack finally understood what she was meaning. 

“Really? I’ll get to meet him?!”

“Yes, Jack. I promise.”

76 allowed the conversation to keep going as he slowly removed the mask portion of his headgear. If he took it slow and didn’t need to get up and run around in the next few minutes, he’d be fine to keep sitting there and eat. He set the mask on the table, picked up his fork and knife, then paused.

The other two at the table were staring back at him.

After another few seconds of silence, he asked a quiet, “What?”

“Jack asked you a question.” She told him.

This made the bot trill at her and wave his arms about, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you! I simply asked if your dinner was alright. I-I know you don’t like Omnics very much, and knowing that I cooked it-”

“I don’t  _ hate _ Omnics.” He retorted simply, “The dinner is fine.”

She reached for his glass of water, “If you don't hate Omnics… stop glaring at him.”

“Oh! Maybe he was part of the Omnic Crisis! That would explain why he's uncomfortable around me.” Jack tried.

He went back to ignoring the two. Jack never seemed to know when to hush and the girl never shut him up. And while sometimes that exact thing would be welcomed, this evening was not that time. 

Jack quietly got up and the girl turned to look at him. 76 stayed quiet but looked down to her plate. She'd eaten everything but the green beans.

“You need to eat your veggies.” He told her.

“Just because I don't have a dad doesn't mean you need to take that role.” She frowned.

“You don't have a father?” 76 cut through his steak.

“He died at the Overwatch Headquarters Bombing.”

A lot of people died that day, and she was the daughter of someone who had been present on that day. It was just another weight to add to the chain of guilt he had wrapped around his neck.

“We shouldn't be sad about it. You did everything you could to save him, Ma’am. You nearly died yourself that day.” Jack set a plate of doughnuts on the table, picking up the almost empty plate of green beans.  “You should eat your vegetables.”

“I don't need two of you now!”

“But they are very-- oh, Jesse?” Jack was staring past 76 at the hallway. “Where are you going?”

76 slowly turned around to look, finding the hallway empty but the door back there being shut. 

“He just walked in then left after seeing our guest…” 

She shrugged, “Prolly has some beef with him. Shouldn't worry about it.”

He turned back to the table and went back to eating. If he had the mask off for much longer he would start feeling a horrid tightness in his chest. 

Nyx pressed the buttons on her legs and stood up. She went back to the workshop and got back to work on fixing up something. From where he sat, he couldn't tell what exactly it was. 

But most legs don't have a pulse core in it.

“The bathroom you'll be using has fresh towels in it. I washed them because Jesse always leaves them on the floor.” Jack added. “Please get as much rest as you can tonight.”

“Mm.” He answered gruffly.

The rest of his meal went in silence. 76 finished rather quickly, wiping his face and putting his mask back on. After the hiss sounded, he stood up, gathering his plate and cup in an attempt to take care of it. An attempt that was thwarted by the Omnic.

“I'll take care of it. You go and rest, sir.” He nodded and went to the kitchen.

76 didn't say a word, instead heading back downstairs. The guest room was looking very appealing for a few more hours as the need for sleep was quickly overwhelming him. Perhaps it was the food, maybe it was the comfortable bed, maybe he was feeling safer than usual.

But it was probably just the food.

 

* * *

 

 

It was almost 3 am when 76 woke back up. 

He remembered falling asleep in the bed, but he didn’t remember pulling the blankets over him or adjusting the pillows. He didn’t remember the robe being on the end of his bed when he fell asleep. 

Just, why?

Why did they take care of him like he was family? He didn’t know either of them--the only off chance is that he had met her if her father had brought her to work. This was highly unlikely due to her age and the fact of the no non personnel rule that took effect after some time. They didn’t make him lift a finger to pay his stay. They provided him with everything and more than a plain hotel would have.

Nothing they have done had made sense up until this point.

But 76 grabbed the robe and turned to the door. He figured he might as well shower and clean himself up. He didn’t plan on staying in this room another day. And if he didn’t plan on being there very much longer he should get ready to leave. Meaning a shower, and finding his gear.

As soon as he opened the door 76 was greeted with a loud, thundering laugh from upstairs. 

A man’s voice filled the room with sing-songy words, “Gooooooooooood morning, Sunshine! The Earth says hello!” 

“The Earth better take a shower.” She replied quickly.

“Aw, Sunshine’s no fun!”

“Shower. Now. And put your filthy clothes outside the bathroom so Jack can wash them for you.”

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs as she was talking.

“And take off your hat so I can clean it. Leave your gun on the bed--your Peacekeeper!”

76 almost didn't want to see who she was talking to. He debated just turning around and heading back into his room for the night.

“And  _ scrub _ yourself or I can and  _ will  _  send Jack in there to scrub you. Remember what happened last time?”

The owner of the laugh and the Sunshine comment made it down the last of the stairs, a smirk plastered to his features. His body was scruffy and covered in a thick layer of grime. Atop his head sat a very particular cowboy hat that told him everything he needed to know about the man.

“Don't worry, Sunshine~. I'll be nice and clean so w-” He stopped mid-stride and mid-sentence when his eyes caught 76’s.

The two shared a long, recognized silence between them. Both knew who the other was. Both vigilantes on the run from the law.

What kind of a kid willingly hid known criminals and vigilantes in their home? 

The man tried forcing a grin through the awkwardness that hung in the air. “I recon I didn't see ya there, sir. Long time, no see, Soldier 76.” 

It had only been five years since he'd seen the scrawny brat, but at least he'd finally grown up a bit. Sure he was still sweet talking--or doing his best to--and was  wearing nothing but gear that just screamed “Old, Cheesy  Western Movie” (or at least 76 assumed so, considering all of his clothes had been abandoned on the trip down the stairs). 

“Don’t disgrace your host, McCree.” 76 grabbed the cowboy's hat and shoved it against his bare crotch.

The cowboy skittered past him and into the main bedroom of the house. 76 sighed and ran his fingers roughly through his hair.

This was definitely one of the weirdest stops he'd even been at.


	4. Chapter 4

**** Damn he'd forgotten what hot water felt like.

The way it soothed the aches was a luxury long forgotten lately. If for just this shower alone he might seriously start considering a ‘next’ time. 

76 had sought out the package of cheap razors that were under the sink and had taken them to the patches of stubble that grew around the scars on his face. He should have taken care of this sooner but he  never paused while he was on the hunt.

Oh, finding the trail he was on was going to be hell.

“Sunshine! Why the hell didn't you tell me that you only had glittery girly stuff in your bathroom!!”

Again with the shouting. How well could they really hide out here if they kept shouting all the time. He had more of a reason to not particularly like the shouting, as his headgear usually amplified all sounds to help make up for his vision problems.

“I am a wanted vigilante in several countries not a glittery fairy princess!!” McCree continued to croon.

76 left the bathroom, bundled up in the pleasantly warm robe, and went back to the guest room. Jack had been in there since apparently, as a set of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt was set out on the bed along with a brush. The clothes were fresh out of the dryer.

“Maybe they should just set up a bed and breakfast.” He muttered to himself. 

He redressed and got him headgear back on, sighing in relief as the mask filled up with oxygen. It was fine without his mask if he stood relatively still for a bit. It had thankfully become almost silent in the building. He figured he could grab a few more Z’s before leaving this next day break.

Until McCree started shouting again. “Hey. Sunshine! Where’s my poncho?”

Jack was the one to stop him. “Ms. Anderson is getting it out of the dryer, please stop shouting, Jesse. Mr. 76 is trying to rest.” 

“...ah, shoot. Sorry, Jackie boy.”

76 chuckled. He hadn't known Jesse McCree to calm down so quickly save to a handful of people telling him to. Himself, Reyes, Ana, and his last apprentice he had received. She was fiery ray of sunshine even facing the fact that Overwatch was falling apart around her. McCree only ever listened to her because his crush on the girl was visible from the lunar colonies.

That reminded him: he needed to visit her grave again. 

She had died that day when the bombs dropped. Of all the lives that had been lost that day, hers was the one that hit the hardest. She had put complete faith in him and he had stripped it away along with her life. 

And he couldn’t even remember her name or her face. After the bombs he always had a hard time figuring out certain memories that were from that day or earlier. Any time that he tried he felt like he needed to cry.

Hell, now his head hurt. Everytime he thought about what had happened the feeling in his gut to weep always manifested itself in the form of a massive headache. Jack had told him there was some medicine downstairs and all he had to do was go get it if he needed it. He opened the door and slipped out. Jesse was in the living room, relaxing on the couch there with his eyes closed and arms behind his head.

76 moved around quietly, doing his best not to disturb the other man. He trudged  downstairs where Jack and the girl were busily going through the clothes coming out of the dryer. The smaller ones were tossed in the basket that Jack was holding. The larger ones were snuggled by the girl tightly until they lost their warmth. 76 stayed quiet at the start of the hallway as he watched her do this over and over to all the articles of clothing in the dryer.

And he almost had to crack a smile at the look in her eyes as she pulled out the red poncho and put it immediately on. It swallowed her small frame up, surrounding her in a pleasant heat. 

She looked… happy. 

Or at least her eyes said she was. Her face stayed the same emotionlessness that it had been for the entirety of his stay. What could she have gone through that would forever wipe out her happiness?

“Oh! Sir, I didn’t realize you were done with your shower. Did you need something?” Jack chirped as he stood up.

76 just motioned to the kitchen, “You said there was headache medicine?”

“Oh, yes!” The Omnic shuffled over, “It’s in the top cabinet.” He motioned to the one in question, “I’ll bring it upstairs for you if you go sit up with Jesse. I need to bring him some for his arm.” 

76 almost knew better than to argue with Jack. He seemed to be in charge of the guests and did a damn good job with it. He turned and climbed the stairs again. McCree hadn't moved, unsurprisingly, but the tv was quietly playing the news in the background.

76 quietly went to the big chair in the room, sitting down and relaxing almost instantly into it. Talk about a comfortable piece of furniture.

Almost right after he sat down, metalic footsteps slowly worked up the stairs until the girl was standing in the room, still wearing the cowboy's poncho. She didn't stop for a second nor did she even look before she flopped onto the couch.

Right on top of McCree.

He let out a soft “Oof” before semi relaxing again. “If I was in your spot, you could’a said so.”

She made a noise but made no effort to move.

He just chuckled and slowly, gently, wrapped his arms around her. 

“....you won the bet.” She sleepily murmured after a while.

“The bet? Oh! Sunshine, I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch of your own home.” 

She didn't respond. After a quick inspection,  she was completely asleep. She either must have felt completely safe or was extremely exhausted to have fallen asleep so quickly.

McCree’s eyes closed and he relaxed where he lay, letting her sleep on him. Jack came up the stairs and looked at the two with his head tilted.

“Is she asleep?” Jack asked quietly.

“Yep. When was the last time she slept?”

“It's been approximately 84 hours now.”

“Jack, I thought I told you to make her sleep more!”

The bot backed up, “I-I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to!”

“Calm down, I'm just teasing you.” McCree chuckled, “She's got nightmares, I know she don't sleep well.”

Oh, so that's why he hadn't moved her. 76 would probably do the same if she'd fallen into his lap. If she felt safe enough to sleep there, then he would leave her.

Jack handed him some medicine and a glass of water. “It's not the strongest but I've brought you a double dose of what works for Ms. Anderson. I ran your allergies and you shouldn't be allergic.”

He took them as quickly as possible before letting the room go to silence.

76 broke it after a while. “You two seem to know each other well.”

McCree hummed but didn't open his eyes. A smile stayed on his face, “Yep.”

He made a noise, “What was the bet?”

“She bet me sleeping in her bed for a whole stay that I couldn't make it back before 3 months. I made it back in 2 months and 26 days.” He grinned.

“Where did you go?”

“Had some business to attend to up in the states. Almost had a problem getting back with Talon on that train.” He whistled a bit.

76 sat back in the chair more and crossed his arms.

“They were using the Blackwatch handbook. I just wanted to get home to Sunshine in one piece.” He shrugged, stopping all movement when the girl shifted. “I don't think she'd appreciate having to make another Prothstetic for me.”

76 made a noise similar to a chuckle.

“So… What brings you out here?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Well, Sunshine could help. She knows the whole underground here. They can find anyone.”

“The less people know, the less people will get hurt.”

McCree nodded. “Still, she’d be willing to help.”

He only groaned.

The cowboy went back to silence. He held the girl, gently shifting his hand back and forth on her back. Jack had moved to sit down in front of the TV as he folded the clothes. The bot set aside any that were damaged next to a sewing kit.

76 stayed quiet for a while, letting his thoughts flow wherever they may. His mission for the moment was severely off track--so much that he was considering asking around for help. Knowing the whole underground would be a godsend at this point. His apprentice's grave would need to be cleaned and maybe he should stop for flowers. Sunflowers would be perfect for her--but if he was honest with himself he didn’t know why they were perfect. Oh, hell, now he sounded like some sappy old man.

Well that was only half right.

“I have a question for you, Mr. 76.” Jack turned and looked at him.

He shook out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

“How did you  _ survive the airstrike _ ?”

76 paused. He stared back at Jack through the red tint of his visor. How did a Omnic in Dorado know about the airstrike that took place in the Swiss Overwatch Headquarters five years prior? Especially if he wasn’t online during that time.  “What airstrike?”

“The one from 5 years ago.” Jack set down the motorbike jacket and the needle he was threading through it. “You were there.”

“How do you know that?”

“You have the same breathing problem as Ms. Anderson does.”

A breathing problem was what Jack had connected him with the airstrike that day? A breathing problem that could have been caused by a number of things. “Why does she have it?”

He tilted his head, “Because she was present at the base when the airstrike happened.”

“What?”

“That was how she knew how to deal with your mask and why she had me get the oxygen tank while she fixed it.” Jack went on.

She had an oxygen tank? He’d been so dazed that when she was fixing his mask he  didn’t pay any thoughts as to why she even had such a thing. 76 inwardly sighed. It  _ did _ make sense that if she did in fact have some sort of breathing problem--especially one similar to his--that she would have a tank and know how to use it. She would be able to spot someone else who had a similar problem.

_ She would know how to fix it. _

“Ms. Anderson only has an issue if she gets too excited or gets worked up over something.” Jack picked the jacket again.

McCree snorted, “Maaaan, remember the time she got a brand spankin’ new welding torch from the kingpin down in Rio for a Christmas present? I thought we were gonna hafta rush her to the ER in town!” He let out his booming laugh only to get quickly shushed by the Omnic.

She didn’t even stir.

76 had no outward emotion. “Why was she at the HQ?”

McCree chuckled, “Back to business, aren’t you, boss?” 

Jack turned back to the jacket, repairing a bullet hole that had been shot through the ‘6’. “She only told me so much…” He muttered quietly.

“McCree, who was she?” He asked sternly.

“You’re playin’ dumb to him, but not to me?” He grinned, “Just admit to Jackie that you were there, Commander.”

76 growled but did so. It was a waste of time to keep a ruse for just one person. “... I was there.”

Jack seemed to perk up, “You were? How did you survive? Were you not inside? Were you just on the grounds at the time? Did Ms. Ziegler get to you earlier?”

McCree stopped him, “Jackie, he died that day.” 

“If he died… how is he here?”

“That’s why he’s ‘Mr. 76’.”

The bot trilled in understanding after a few seconds.

76 narrowed his eyes. The cowboy was trying to skirt around the question that was asked. He was doing everything in his power to keep the girl’s identity secret. Why? Why would McCree care so much about someone’s identity unless this was something that someone had ordered him to do. And if that was it, then why would he listen to it after 5 years?

“How do you know her?”

“You know her too.” He whistled quietly as if to tease 76.

76 growled loudly.

“P-Please don’t wake her up.” Jack cried out in a ‘hushed’ whisper.

“Who is she?” 76 repeated. He wasn’t interested in playing any games. He wanted to know even if he had to beat it out of the cowboy.

McCree put a hand on the girl’s head on her head, running his metal hand through her strikingly cerise hair. He didn’t answer him, only closing his eyes again and relaxing into the couch pillows. The background noise of the TV and the bot’s cooling fans working could be heard over the faint, steady breathing of the girl. The cowboy was stalling, that was obvious.

It only begged to ask ‘why’. Why he stalled. Why he did everything to not answer. Why. Why. Why. 76 almost growled aloud at the thought. Everything about this place was a ‘why’ in the waiting. Why they picked him up. Why they cared for him. Why they cleaned up after him, fed him, gave him a bed. Why she fixed his mask. Why she cared to pay attention about something so insignificant as a breathing problem. Why she and Jack took the most care to keep him from panicking by telling him everything they would be doing.

Why…?

The soldier uncrossed his arms, setting them on the arms of the chair. His hands gripped them as he gruffly started, “Who is--”

“Phoenyx.”

76 paused. “What?”

“Her name is Phoenyx Anderson.” McCree repeated. 

Phoenyx? Phoenyx. Phoenyx Anderson. Why did he know that name? His hands flew to his head as his memories tried to resurface through a winding mass of scar tissue that started on that day. He knew he knew that name from somewhere. Just who or what did it belong to? She was at the Headquarters when the place was blown to smithereens. Phoenyx Phoenyx Phoenyx Pho _ enyx Phoenyx Phoenyx…  _

Who? Why?

“Sir?” 

76 felt a hand on his shoulder and allowed his first reaction to strike out at whatever was touching him. The piercing pain in his head struck through his entire skull. He barely heard the sound of metal hitting the floor and his arm held a bruising pain.

“Jack!” That was her voice. Phoenyx’s voice. “Jack are you okay?”

Through a red, wobbling and tilting tint 76 watched her form scrambled to get up, failing and falling to the floor as her legs refused to respond.

The Omnic was quick to help her instead, “I’m alright…  I don’t think he heard my  warning…” 

“Jesse, take him back to his room before he hurts someone else.”

76 huffed the oxygen in his mask as quickly as it would pump it in. It wasn’t enough to keep up and his lungs burned in a pain that matched the one still shooting through his head. He felt hands on his shoulders. They held him down in a way that if he fought back he’d only hurt himself more. They were quickly dragging him away.

Damn this headache. Damn these memories. Damn it all.

76 was almost roughly pushed into the bed. He felt another pair of hands on him and someone talking. He swung his arms out as far as they would go and when that didn’t help the offending hands leave, he kicked out his feet. He heard a small grunt of pain before a sharp prick was in his arm.

Damn it all.

Phoenyx.

Why?


	5. Chapter 5

“Sunshine, you don’t hafta take care of him by yourself! He kicked you!”

76 groaned quietly.

His head was no longer aching. He was back in the guest bed with the one too many pillows that never failed to make his neck sore. The sheets were pulled over him but kept away from his neck.

“He's in my guest room. My computer is in there and I need to look up one of my designs.” She --Phoenyx Anderson -- replied simply.

76 slowly sat up, earning the attention of the two standing in the doorway of the room. The girl only stared back at him, while McCree’s stance changed to appear more protective of her. He almost wanted to ask until he saw the massive purple bruise on Phoenyx’s face. The bruise was such a dark color in comparison to her fair skin or the massive scar that crowded the left side of her face.

The scar that could be seen peeking out of her clothes on the left side combined with the missing limbs now replaced with her mechanical ones was the only needed evidence of her presence in the Swiss HQ building when the airstrike struck.

Phoenyx had said that her father had died that day, that she had almost been killed protecting him. Her father was an Overwatch member, and if he was there, so was she. She didn't look combat ready so maybe she was part of the research division. It  _ would _ explain all the books and the knowledge she had of Overwatch tech.

“Feeling better, 76?” She moved over to him. “You had a pretty bad panic attack last night.”

She didn't touch him, staying a good arm's length away from him. Understandable if he was the one that gave her the bruise.

“Do you still feel panicked? What about your headache?” 

“I'm fine now.” 76 almost wanted to apologize.

“Then get some more rest.” Phoenyx told him. “I'm gonna be on my computer in here so if that bothers you we can move you to my room.”

“It's fine.”

She moved away with that, sitting down in the chair and turning all her attention to the computer screen. 76 ran his hand through his hair and sighed. This stay has been one of his worst. This was even worse than the time that Talon tried to recruit him with a prostitute.

McCree stood in the doorway for a little while longer before moving over to Phoenyx.  He leaned down to whisper something private, but his headgear caught it all.

“I'm gonna go collect a few late payments for you. If he even moves wrong you call me.”

But the girl only waved him off, “I'll be fine, Jesse.”

“Promise me you'll call.”

“Sure, yeah, I promise.” 

McCree hummed something before stomping out, leaving them with little more noise than the clicking on the keyboard. 76 let his gaze fall to the computer screen. It was definitely encryption software that she was running--or rather decryption software. Based on the keys she was inputting , it was her encryption. 

Wait, was that a blueprint?

The sole reason that he was even in Dorado was because of a blueprint. He had sought out Ana Amari in hopes of her joining his cause, only to receive a condition for which she would join: Find the engineer who made the encrypted blueprints. Said blueprints had been scattered across the globe, sold on the black market, and even had bounties placed over them for whoever could translate it. He'd been searching for months on the only clue he'd been given by Ana. 

That the engineer used to work for Overwatch.

Phoenyx Anderson worked for Overwatch. She runs a shop building mechanical  legs and arms for people in need, with some sort of underground work that paid for it. She was even present at the Headquarters in Switzerland during the airstrike.

But it wasn't until 76 saw the blueprint for the sniper rifle that Ana now used that he was convinced.

He didn't need the help of the underground world to find her. She was sitting right there in a computer chair.

He wanted to thank whatever almighty power above for this blessing of luck.

“I upgraded your pulse rifle.” She told him suddenly. “It can fire double the rounds now before reloading.” She clacked away on the keyboard, making the screen change to a print of the same model of rifle he had.

“..thanks?” 

She just made a noise before pointing to a piece on the screen. She flicked her wrist and magnified the screen, “You had a series hairline cracks on the base of your handle. Heavy weight pulse rifles aren't meant to be thrown around in battle as much as you seem to be.”

He nodded. 

“You keep keep this up and you'll have to come back sooner than you think.” 

He nodded again. She was completely right. He didn’t take care of anything much. Not his headgear, not his weapon, not his clothes. Not even himself. Not that he would ever admit that aloud.

She closed the blueprint and brought up another to work on, “Why are you even in Dorado? Last time anyone had a location on you… you were at the Temple of Anubis.”

“Why do you keep tabs on me?”

The look on Pheonyx’s face as she turned around was almost laughable, forming somewhere on the line of irritation and ‘duh’. “You stole Overwatch technology without killing a single person in all of the raids. I like keeping tabs on vigilantes who steal my stuff.”

Well, she had a point.

“So, why are you in Dorado?” She repeated.

He looked away for a second. 76 debated telling her straight up that he was there with the intent to recruit her. He also debated playing dumb. First McCree,  now her? Why did people want to help so badly around here?

“Aw, cat got your tongue?” She turned back to her work. 

The screen filled with a list of files with different names. They were organized by name, but none of the names seemed to make sense to him. Just looked like she had smashed on the keyboard for a name and moved on. To her they might make sense, but then again, she was the one with the key to the cypher.

The keys kept clacking until Pheonyx paused altogether. She looked back again, catching his gaze with hers. Before he could say anything to her, she turned back to her work. It seemed as if she wanted to say something but either didn't want to, or didn't know how.

The same pattern kept up for almost an hour before 76 furrowed his brow. She was acting like a child who didn't want to get scolded.

“Say it.” He growled.

“Hm?” She didn’t turn.

“Say whatever you want to say or stop looking at me.”

She closed out all over her  documents before shutting down the computer and turning the chair around to face him. Pheonyx crossed her arms, “Who are you looking for? I have connections. I can help you find them.”

“The less people-”

“-know the less people can get hurt… yeah, yeah. Heard that spiel already before. Means jack-diddly to me.”

He huffed, “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I can help you. Are you that self centered that you won’t even accept help?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want help. It was that he didn’t  _ need _ help finding who he was looking for anymore. He just needed help recruiting her. The fact that she was almost trying to force his hand into telling her was almost pissing him off.

“I’m not a scary ogre, and neither are you.” She continued.

“I don’t appreciate getting chewed out by a little girl.”

“And I don’t appreciate talking to a brick wall with a visor.” She pressed the buttons on her legs and stood up. She neared him again. “I am not your enemy, Soldier: 76.”

He groaned and huffed a bit. She wasn't his enemy, sure. But they weren't friends either. 

“I'm just trying to help you.”

“Why?” Why help someone you barely know? Why practically risk your life, use your resources, spend your money, care about someone you barely know? 

What was she trying to make up for?

“Why help you? You were bleeding out in an alleyway. You came here for a reason. If you're looking for someone I can find them. If you owe someone money, I can fix it. If you're looking for something you lost then just say the word and I can start looking-”

“I don't need your help.”

She completely ignored his comment, “No one can do everything by themselves!”

76 growled. What part of ‘no’ did the not understand around here? “Learned that the hard way, didn't you?” He found himself muttering.

Oh, that got her to make a confused noise, “What?”

He knew he should just shut up, “You tried so hard to save all those people the day the airstrike took place, didn't you? ...and look, you could barely save yourself.”

76 knew. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew. It was like he didn't know how to stop talking. Like he needed to express his own frustration from that day onto someone. Someone who was there on that day. But the look that welled up on her face made any comments he'd made forced him to shut up and bite down on his tongue. 

It was the face of guilt.

A survivor's guilt.

It was the same guilt he carried around on chains that swung from his neck. Chains that were tugged on and tightened harshly in the middle of the night.

It seemed like 10 minutes before she spoke up again, “Jack is finishing up with your jacket. He's adding some more padding for your shoulders since a lot of it was missing. We'll have it brought to your room along with your weapon by the end of the day. I expect you to be gone by the morning.” She turned and gathered the tubes of paper that had been strewn across the desk.

“...Phoenyx-” He started quietly, only to watch her back tense up before she turned back with an icy stare.

“You don't get to call me that.”

“I'm sor-”

“No you're not.” 

76 almost shot back a reply but decided against it. He'd ruined all relationship he had built up with her. It wasn't much but the same girl who had gently held his head while she changed a filter was now shooting icy daggers at him. 

Pheonyx stalked out of the room, stumbling a tad when her legs locked up for mere seconds. When he allowed his instincts to jump up and try and help her through, he earned a small growl before she stomped away.

76 stood in the doorway for a little while longer before sighing loudly and running his hands through his hair. 

Getting on her good side was gonna be exponentially harder now. He needed Ana on his side, and he needed Phoenyx on his side for the sniper to join. It didn't help that he still didn't know who she even was in relation to Overwatch aside an engineer who made encrypted blueprints. There had to be a reason Ana sent him after her.

76 groaned but moved back to the bed. 

He was going to have to phone a friend in.

Well, an old colleague.

 

* * *

 

 

That was how a glaring Jesse McCree came to be sitting down in the office chair across from 76. Jesse was clearly still mad about the fact that he had accidentally kicked Phoenyx. 

“What do you want now?” The cowboy crossed his arms. “You already pushed my patience with you.”

“Who is she?”

“This again? Commander,  you already know who she is.”

He shook his head, “No, who was she to Overwatch?”

“You serious? You two were joined at the hip when she was there.” McCree chuckled. “You seriously don't remember?”

He huffed. “....I… can't remember much before the airstrike.” 

“Amnesia?”

“...probably.” He'd never had someone look into it. It had never been too much of a problem. He remembered why he was doing what he was, why the whole of Overwatch actually fell. He knew all that.

“You ain't shittin’ me, right?” McCree’s brow furrowed. 

“I’m not lying!” 76 growled. 

“Alright. Alright.” The cowboy chuckled, “Pheonyx Anderson is the name of the engineer who was Jack Morrison’s last apprentice before the airstrike killed both of them.” 

“She's dead?”

“On paper, to the world… jus’ like you are.”

He nodded. To be honest, if one was affiliated with Overwatch, being dead was a good way to get away from it. One of the few.

“I had my orders to bring her to a safe house after the bombs hit. Both you and Reyes gave me those orders.”

“I did?”

He nodded,  “Yes, sir.”

The soldier paused and thought for a second. Out of everything, he vaguely remembered an order. Damn, his head was hurting already. “What was the order in its entirety?”

“If something were to happen to you or Reyes, that I was to take Phoenyx to one of the safehouses that the two of you set up and wait for additional orders.”

“You're still waiting?” 

He nodded. “I brought her here after a while. Been here for 3 years now.”

“Where were you for the other 2 years?”

“Indiana.”

“Indiana?”

“Yeah. Reyes set up a safehouse in her old home. Figured she'd feel more comfortable there.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Too bad it didn't stay safe. Talon was on our tail in no time.”

76 nodded a little. It was a little surprising that the cowboy was still following orders of men that were dead to the world. It would explain why he didn't want to say her name for the longest.

Then something dawned on 76, “You said we were ‘attached at the hip’. Were we….?”

McCree let out a booming laugh, “Christ,  I hope to God you two were not dating.”

76 tilted his head more before a growl escaped his lips. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Commander-"

  
He stopped the cowboy, "Why would it be a bad thing if we had been dating? I remember the crush you had on h-"  
  
"Sir, that'd be incest if you two were dating."   
  
"....what?"  
  
" _Pheonyx Anderson is Jack Morrison’s daughter._ " He stated with such a certainty that 76 couldn't find any hint that he was lying. "She took her mother's name when she joined Overwatch and kept it when you died."  
  
She was.... "Did anyone else know about this?"   
  
He shook his head,  "Most of the higher ups didn't know thanks to Reyes. She was ordered not to say anything to anyone, not even you."  
  
"How did you find out?"  
  
"When Reyes ordered me to take her away after whatever went down that day."  
  
"Why did he tell you and not me?"  
  
"Well," He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You'd already figured it out by then. A higher up messed up and said her full name-"  
  
"Her full name?" 76 cut in.   
  
"Pheonyx Anderson - Morrison."   
  
The soldier held his hand up for a second so he could think. The girl--the engineer--he'd been sent on a wild goose chase after was his own daughter. One that he didn’t remember being told about. One he didn't know was possible. His wife and he weren't able to have kids. His wife? Why did he remember having a wife but not a child? What was going on? 

Frankly, the only thing he knew was certain was that this was definitely why Ana sent him.

And why he had just royally messed it up.


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ll make you some peach cobbler next time you’re in town, Mr. 76!” The bot called after him.

76 had pushed past Jack who was standing in the upstairs living room. Jack had just finished repairing the motorbike jacket to it’s original glory and then some when dawn arrived. His stuff had been packed back up, rifle cleaned and fixed, and the rest of his gear was sitting on the kitchen table. 

“You will come back to visit right?” Jack continued. 

76 only looked past his visor at him as his hands busied themselves with putting on the last of his gear. 

“He’ll come back when his rifle finally goes kaput” Nyx called from upstairs as she walked downstairs. “Maybe he’ll leave his attitude at the door this time.”

She walked up to him and looked him over. She grabbed his rifle, resting most of the weight on her mechanical arm and waited to pass it to him. She didn’t seem all to mad with him despite the way he’d lashed out at her the night before. 

“I did a last minute adjustment to it.” She tossed it at him.

76 caught it and could immediately tell what it was: there was a new counterweight on the front end. It was such a minute difference that any inexperienced fighter wouldn’t be able to tell, but after the time he’d spent with the rifle, he’d come to know every inch of the thing. It almost surprised him that she was able to notice.

Almost.

Jack neared him with a small, wrapped package, “I made you a meal to take…. In case you don’t get to sit and eat for a while. Jesse said you were on the hunt for someone and I know how those types of ordeals usually play out.”

He debated saying something, but settled on a nod and putting the package inside his jacket. Even after he’d kicked her, after he’d pissed her off, even after everything he’d made them do they were still sending him on his way with goods and pleasant wishes. 

Why?

He finally made it to the door. 76 knew he’d already messed this meeting up. He wouldn’t be able to recruit her to his side today or any day close to today. The next best thing would be to regroup with Ana and try and work out a new solution. 

He turned his head to look back at her. Several thoughts ran through his mind, begging for him to say them aloud.  _ If _ she really was his daughter then the royally effed relationship they currently had wouldn’t be fixed just by saying anything like he was her father. Frankly, that could potentially make it worse. Besides, would she even believe something that he almost couldn’t himself?

Pheonyx rested a hand on her hip, waiting for him to make his move.

And he did, turning back to the door and quietly muttering, “Thank you…”

She made a soft noise, “I’m not a dentist, you don’t have an option. You’ll be back.”

He almost had to chuckle. 76 put his hand on the door and pushed it open.

Only to reveal an unhappy McCree standing there, arms crossed. “Where do you think yer goin’, Partner?”

76 let out a soft growl.

“Did you think I was gonna let you leave without telling her?”

76 growled more, trying to get past him. The cowboy only swayed with him, blocking his each movement.

He motioned to a confused Pheonyx, “C’mon now, tell her.”

Now he really was stuck between a rock and hard place. How well did McCree expect this to pan out? Did he really think that Pheonyx would just up and accept the fact that the same person who had told her that she didn’t do enough was her father? If he even was? The headache was creeping back in. 

Then the girl herself spoke up, “Tell me what?”

“Why he’s here. He don’t want to put you out none with asking for help, but I can see through the façade.” McCree forced his way in, still leaving himself between the soldier and the door as he closed it. 

“Why are you doing this?” 76 spoke through his teeth.

“Because y’all both need closure and it ain’t gonna happen unless someone makes you.” 

He huffed. How was getting her to confirm something closure? What would that change? They both died in the explosion, so why would it even matter whether or not she really, truly was.

Then again, maybe it would stop the headaches.

76 turned around, looking everywhere but Phoenyx’s face. Behind him, he could feel the cowboy’s gaze. He wasn’t getting away without saying it or beating McCree senseless--not that latter seemed like a bad idea at the moment.

After what seemed like ages and several deep sighs, 76 finally started with , “Phoeny-”

She quickly cut him off, “You don’t get to call me that.”

“....then what do I call you?”

“Nyx.”

76 sighed and started again, “Nyx, I…” His voice trailed off. He fought in the Omnic Crisis. He led Overwatch for 20 years. He survived a direct hit from an airstrike. Of all the things he  _ could _ do, why was telling Pheonyx Anderson she was his daughter the hardest thing he’d ever had to do?

“How about you describe who you’re looking for.” She offered after a while of silence.

76 nodded to that. He could just tell her his initial mission: find the engineer.

“Come sit.” She told him as she moved to the kitchen table.

“Yes, Ma’am. ” 76 did so, moving there and joining the other two. 

“Start describing them.”

He rested his hands on the table, refusing to look at her, “I was instructed to get this person to join in order to get another to join. We decided it would be best that this person not fall into enemy hands and we needed to keep them safe.”

She nodded, waiting for him to keep going.

“I was only given so much information: They were an engineer that worked for Overwatch before the bombs fell. I managed to confirm that this engineer was also the one that was responsible for the slew of blueprints that are so encrypted that no one else has been able to uncode.”

Her eyes widened as she suddenly figured out that it was her in question.

76 just continued, “I then managed to figure out that it was a ‘she’ and that she lived in Dorado and had ties with the whole underground.”

He figured if he gave off enough hints that he could find the confidence to keep going. It may not make a difference in the end. 

“Unfortunately when I got here, I hit several dead ends after every lead I’d found. But I’d found some blueprints in the hands of  _ Los Muertos _ . Getting them back wasn’t easy and ended with me getting blown up and ending up right on her front porch.”

Jack was the first one to interrupt him, “Sir, it sounds like you’re talking about Ms. Anderson.”

The three others in the room slowly looked at the bot. He tilted his head as he tried to figure out why the others were looking at him. 

“Oh… he was, wasn’t he?”

McCree nodded slowly.

Jack nodded and went back to the house of cards that he was working on, “My apologies, please continue, Mr. 76.”

She stopped them before anyone could else could talk by holding up her hands. McCree just watched quietly, changing his glance between 76 and her.

It seemed like several minutes later before Nyx spoke up, “So, who’s looking for me? Who sent you?” 

“...Ana Amari.” 76 ignored the confused look that came upon McCree’s face.

She didn’t even seem fazed. “Why?”

“She told me she wouldn’t join my side without you on my side as well.”

“Why?”

“To keep you away from Talon.”

Nyx  sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. “I’m not asking why  _ she _ wanted me to join. She’s already tried to get me to join her. Every past member of Overwatch has tried to get me and each had their own reasons. She wanted to keep me safe and keep me away from the people who brought OVerwatch down--  _ I know that already _ .”

“Then will-”

“Why do  _ you  _ want me?”

76 paused. Did he just want her because he wanted Ana on his team or did he want her because he wanted Ana on his team  _ and _ she was his daughter, allegedly? If there was even a small possibility that that fact was right, then of course he would want her safe. Safe somewhere he could watch over her and make sure that no one touched her. Not Talon. Not a kingpin. Not a gang. No one.

“Was it because you wanted to ‘protect’ me?” She frowned, “Thanks but no thanks. I’ve got very powerful people looking out for me in this world right now and I don’t need someone to hold my hand. I can handle it.”

He looked up at her.

“I’m safe right where I am. Anything that comes after me gets scared if I grab a shotgun.”

McCree kept his eyes casted downwards. 76 watched Nyx stand up, stumbling before she clicked in the buttons on her legs to allow her to walk around. Beside them, Jack whined a little, looking away from her. She stalked around the workshop as she spoke.

“Every damn member from Overwatch that has been here has begged me to join them! Every kingpin! Every friggin’ gang and terrorist organization!” Nyx growled, “And I’m still here! What makes you think you have the right leverage to make me leave?”

76 stood and slammed his hands on the table. “Because you’re my daughter!”

The house of cards that Jack was working on quickly tumbled into a pile. The bot made a saddened noise that was swallowed up with the silence in the room. He was half expecting her to jump him with a hug, but she was leaning towards the half of him that would scream and shout at him about how he left his family alone.

“Like I haven’t heard that one before.” Was the only reply he received.

76 let out his own growl. It didn’t matter if he was really her father or not at this point. The fact that there were others out there trying to prey on her because she didn’t have a father around pissed him off. The fact that she could even say that meant this wasn’t the first time that someone tried this with her.

McCree slowly pushed his chair out and walked over to Nyx. A gentle, calming hand was put on her shoulder and she was whispered to. “...Sunshine, he ain’t lying.”

“Yes he is, my father died.”

“Darlin’, I know the world thinks that… but he’s your dad and I ain’t lying about this.”

‘Darling?’ 76 mentally reminded himself to have a ‘talk’ with McCree later.

She turned her head and shot daggers at 76. She crossed her arms before commanding, “Prove it.”

“Your mother, my wife’s, name was Claire Anderson.” Don’t ask him how he knew that, right now, through the headache, he wasn’t exactly sure himself. After a brief wander through his thoughts, everything was starting to come back to him. 

Oh, so  _ this  _ is why Ana sent him.

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that?”

He pulled off one of his gloves followed by the wedding band underneath it, he set it on the table in front of Nyx. The band was the only thing that he’d taken the time to care for. Up until now it only survived as a reminder that somewhere along the line he had someone he cared about.  76 always kept it hidden under his gloves to keep it from tasting blood. At least now the reasoning of why he had it was starting to make sense to him. 

Well, everything was starting to make sense to him now.

Nyx walked over to the table and gingerly picked up the ring. She inspected it before setting it back down and walking back to the other side of the room. He watched her run her hands through her hair and over her face. She paced around the room for a few minutes. The other three let the room fall to silence. 

While she paced, 76 put his face in his own hands and started filtering through the information and memories that was becoming more and more apparent in his mind. He was Jack Morrison. He’d joined the army right out of highschool and was soon in some advanced program. He was sent to fight in the Omnic war and won. He remembered somewhere in between the start of Overwatch and the fall of it was the last time he’d seen Claire. She had looked so sad when he had to leave. Fast forwarding 18 years later and the higher ups are pushing a new apprentice on him even though his plate is full and she’s got the last name of his wife and a smile so sweet it was giving Reyes cavities.

God, how hard had he hit his head that he couldn’t remember this until now? All he had remembered was the stupid plan and how it had gone to shit after the bombs fell. 

76 mentally cursed himself for thinking so hard right now. The splintering pain was starting behind his eyes and the visor wasn’t even trying to help stop it anymore.

McCree broke the silence after a few minutes. “So… does he pass the test?” 

Nyx only uncrossed her arms. “What’s your favorite food?”

“... Baked mac and cheese.”

“How did you break your leg on the summer before your senior year of high school?”

“... A cow kicked me, her name was Bessie.”

She grumbled to herself before finally motioning him over, “Come here.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t move.

“Now.”

76 pushed away from the table carefully, trying not to disturb the new house of cards this time. She was waiting next to the only chair downstairs. He slowly trudged over to her, the pain in his head making it harder and harder to move forward. He stopped next to her, his frame towering over hers.

“Lean down.”

“What?”

“You are more than a foot taller than me. Lean down.”

He did, slowly, cautiously.

“I’m going to touch your head. Hit me and I’ll shoot you.” 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting but a gentle hand raking nails down the top of his scalp was not it. The touch was almost instantly soothing the pain in his head and all the anger and annoyance that was in him quickly filtered out of his body. 76 instinctively followed the hand as it led him to lay down in the chair and relax.

Pheonyx let out a  loud huff before quietly saying, “Alright… I’m convinced.”

“Wait…. Really?” McCree ran over to them, “Seriously that was all it took?”

She shrugged and 76 was glad that she didn’t stop scratching him, “Mom always told me that if I ever wanted something from him I could just scratch his head and he’d just… melt.”

“You’re telling me that one of the most feared vigilantes out there is tamed with head scratches?”

76 laid there and let the nails take away all the pain forming in his skull. This was better than any medication but only ever worked if done just right. For Phoenyx to know about it surely meant that she had to have known someone who could. 

And there was only one person who could.

Claire Anderson.

“....so now what's the plan?” The cowboy asked quietly.

She slowed her hands a little. “.... I guess it's time to pick a side….”

The cowboy chuckled, “So? What side you ending up with?”

Nyx looked down at the soldier in the chair. He might as well have been asleep from how relaxed he was getting. Even if he ended up not actually being Jack Morrison in the end, at least she knew how to calm him down. That would be helpful in the long run if he ever returned to her for his weapon’s maintenance. 

“I-”

And she paused.

Nyx wasn't due for another customer until the evening, but someone was outside the door. Usually she paid no heed to them, as tourists or locals always used her road as a crossways between this street and another.

But usually they didn't carry guns.

“Sunshine?”

“Do you have your Peacekeeper on you?”

His hand moved down to weapon, “Always.”

“Good, we'll need it.”

That was the last thing she remembered before all hell broke loose.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Soldier 76 hated fire fights in residential areas. There were too many chances for accidental collateral damage. Insurances on people who could barely afford it always went up.  Then if the enemies had no regards for the innocent people, the death count always went up in substantial numbers.

He grabbed an offending hand and yanked on it, pulling the man closer and straight into a knee to the gut. McCree had long since gone from the building, chased after by his own truck full of men. It didn't take very long with a few familiar faces for 76 to place this as the gang who had Nyx's blueprints. The ones that had landed him here in the first place.

What beef did they have with Nyx? 

Whatever it was was enough for them to stage a full on assault on her workshop. In broad daylight to boot. They didn't even care how much damage was caused or men were lost this day.

Nyx herself was doing little more than disarming the gang members. Jamming guns, temporarily blinding them, hooking them to something. She didn't have much physical strength or body weight to use to her advantage, but he was pleased with what she had resorted too.

Jack had been hidden away before the fight started. He had taken important documents into the guest room and was hiding in order to keep them safe. But 76 knew it was because he couldn't bring himself to harm another living creature.

76 grabbed a man with both hands, slamming him into the workshop’s computer console. He had a small hope he wasn't ruining it with the blood that flying from the man's face with every punch. He didn’t know not particularly care what buttons were getting activated and pressed, but he was sure they would be fine until dealt with later. 

After a particularly strong blow, 76 leaned closer to the man and growled, “Why are you here?”

The man only chuckled, spitting out his own blood, “... hace lo que debe para sobrevivir…”

He growled more and cracked the monitor with the next blow, “Who do you work for?”

That earned a dry laugh, “Whoever pays the money…” 

76 had picked up his fist again with the full intent to dent in the man's face against the keyboard when he heard the familiar sound of gunfire. If it had been aimed at him he would have expected it. 

But when Nyx's body suddenly dropped to the ground his body just…. Raged.

It wasn't even confirmed that she was his child. It would take a blood test for him to 100% believe it, but right at that moment, no confirmation didn't seem to matter. Hell, he probably could play it off that they attacked the only good safe house he's stayed in.

He threw down a biotic field and turned to deal with the rest of the gang. Plenty of them had already escaped, and the ones who hadn't were a painful looking mess on the floor. If the end goal was just to wound her, why bother staging an attack?

Unless they were hired to take something.

76 pushed the thoughts away and quickly scrambled over to Nyx. The biotic field had done little more than stunt the bleeding in her shoulder. They had knowingly gone for her real arm, taking that one out. But if they really had intended to take her down, they would have shot her torso and not just her limbs.

“...is Jack okay?” She groaned in pain, trying to move away from his hands.

“No one got to the stairs.” He held her in place, putting pressure on the wound. Thankfully it had just gone straight into her shoulder, and even more thankful that it didn't nick any blood vessels.

“Jack!” He yelled down the stairs with a growl, “Call a medic!”

She chuckled and winced immediately after. “.....we're not on the battlefield…. There's not a doctor for 15 minutes.”

76 glanced around. The closest medical kit was on the other side of the room. If he let go of the pressure there was a chance she'd lose too much blood. Angela wasn't there to help so the next best thing was to get a medic,  and quick.

“.... I swear, you're panicking more than I am…” She mumbled. “Not my first time getting shot.”

He lifted a single hand to look at the bloodflow. It would be fine for the next few minutes if he kept pressure on it. Where was Jack and that phone call? “Jack!?”

“There's a woman giving birth, he can't get out here. He said to try and get her there!” Jack yelled up the stairs,  tripping over them as he got up the last few steps. 

“I can't move the biotic field… and I won't be able to keep the pressure on her shoulder.”

“....well then hustle!” She croaked before wincing in pain. “Jack, tell the underground what happened….”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Jack started grabbing a few boxes and digging through them. He was pulling out colored flags the next time 76 looked over.

76 adjusted his hands, slowly gathering her in one arm. She was small enough it was possible, but she wasn't the easiest thing to lift in one arm.

“Oh! Take her legs and arm off.” Jack dropped the flags and hurried over. 

The bot quickly yanked off the limbs, making her whine when the connection was lost on them. The limbs made a series of  _ clangs _ when they hit the hardwood. 

“How's that?” He asked, going back to the flags.

He adjusted her in his arm. She weighed no more than a 9 year old now. Just how heavy were those limbs anyway? He grunted and pressed his hand to her shoulder again. It was bleeding out through his fingers even with the pressure.

But she was remarkably calm for someone who had just been shot. It was almost like she didn't care if she died. 

“Better. Wait here for someone to pick you up.” 76 barked before taking off in a dead sprint.

By the time she was in medical hands, her color had all but drained from her face. Hands were on him as soon as they weren’t being fought back from. He was led to a small room and quickly treated with a few stitches and pain killers. He growled some when a doctor entered the room. He had a bag and needle with him.

“Nyx is going to be fine. I just need some blood to give her.” He got out some gloves, “First we'll test you two and see if you can give her any.”

76’s hand was grabbed and glove carefully removed.

“Going to prick you.” He did so quickly, drawing out the blood. “Was it Los Muertos?”

“Hm? ” 

“That attacked you two. I was hoping they wouldn't attack her shop directly, but no one knows what's going on in their minds.” He put both samples of blood, Nyx's and his, into the machine. “I guess we should be happy it wasn't worse.”

76 didn't say anything,  just sat there. He pulled off his other glove and held both of them. The machine beeped and trilled, making the doctor's eyes open wide. He looked between 76 and the machine a few times before grabbing his clipboard and writing down something.

“What?”

“Do you want me to run a separate paternal test?” 

76 paused a second before nodding slowly. The was a deeply uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut. Dread. Fear. Almost even hate was there. It wasn't hate towards her: she couldn't control anything in regards to who were her parents. It was more towards himself for not remembering something so important.

The doctor took another sample before setting the machine down and holding up the empty blood bag, “Would you be willing to give blood? No one else in the building has the same blood type that can give… and I'd rather not wait 40 plus minutes to find someone in town who could.” He smiled a little, “It's better the quicker we get this started.”

76 paused a moment before nodding and taking off his jacket. “Can I see her?”

“Unfortunately, no. Only next of kin are allowed in after visiting hours.” The doc pushed him to lay down gently.

_ Then hurry up and do the paternity test!  _ 76 thought bitterly. 

The inside of his arm was prepped and poked and quickly the blood was flowing. He relaxed into the paper covered chair while the process went on. The back of his mind was screaming at him at the thought of needing to fight suddenly. 

But the fight never came to his relief. No fight, just a gentle shake to his shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts. “You're done, sir. We have enough blood.”

He slowly sat up, immediately rubbing his scalp. This entire trip was a mess.

“We ran the paternity test for you.”

“....and?” 76 fussed with the new bandage on his elbow. 

The doctor marked a few things on the blood bag. “I'll show you to her room.”


End file.
